


The Prelude

by rosweldrmr



Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosweldrmr/pseuds/rosweldrmr
Summary: As far as Michael was concerned, aliens didn’t have soulmates. | Polar soulmates AU prompt





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for Polar + 5 (the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them) or 14 (the one where color appears on your body wherever your soulmate first touches you) from [this post](http://rosweldrmr.tumblr.com/post/157297070968). I did both. CAN’T STOP ME.  Also this was supposed to be a drabble. Instead it turned into a 5k retelling of the pilot. My bad. I don't know how to be brief.

As far as Michael was concerned, aliens didn’t have soulmates.

“We’re not from here,” Michael argued, sitting at Max’s desk.

“We’re half human,” Max pointed out for the umpteenth time. Michael wasn’t even sure how many times they’d had this discussion. But no matter how adamant Max was that they were no different than humans, Michael knew he was wrong.

“You don’t know that,” Michael pointed out. Their theory that they were hybrids was just that; a theory. The truth was none of them knew anything about home or what they were. Michael knew where Max’s unrelenting desire for normalcy stemmed from. But just because he really, really wanted it to be true didn’t _make_ it true.

“We were designed,” Max pointed out. It was his favorite argument.

“Engineered,” Michael interjected, just to be a dick. He knew Max hated the term.

“The point is, someone went through a lot of trouble to make sure we would fit in here. Soulmates are a part of humans’ lives. Why wouldn’t we have them too?” Max asked, and Michael could clearly see the hope written in his eyes.

“You know why,” Michael sighed. He was tired of having this conversation. He was tired of constantly trying to pull Max back from the brink of humanity. They weren’t human. And the sooner he learned to accept that about himself, the sooner they could all get on with their lives.

“But--”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Someday we’re going to leave Earth and none of this human stuff is going to mean anything,” Michael cut him off.

“You don’t know that,” Max pointed out, to which Michael only frowned. It was strange how each of them had formed their own opinion on what their lives meant on Earth. Max had convinced himself they were sent to Earth to carry on their race, and live with humans. Isabel thought they were experiments that someone had abandoned, either because they were killed or it was a failure. And Michael - he preferred to think that someday their real families would come for them. That this life, this world, all of it was just a waiting room. Someday he would leave this planet in his dust and go home.

This wasn't his life. It was just the prelude.

Each of them had their own reasons for their opinions, but no amount of arguing was ever going to persuade them otherwise.

“If you’re so convinced, then just do it,” Michael goaded him. He knew why Max was so sure they had soulmates. He’d already picked his out. And the fact that they’d never touched, so he couldn’t confirm it, was just a matter of timing for Max. Never mind that object of his affection was a know-it-all teacher’s pet who avoided physical contact at all cost. Michael had almost bumped into her in the hallway in middle school once, and rather than risk letting him touch her, she'd thrown herself onto the floor with enough force to break her own wrist. Everyone learned to give her a wide berth after that.

“I… I can’t. You can’t just go around touching other people.” He looked horrified.

“Why? _Normal_ people do it all the time, Maxwell.”

“But… Liz doesn’t like to be touched.”

And there it was. The real crux of the problem. “You have like five classes with her. She's your lab partner this year. Just _accidentally_ touch her elbow or something. I’m sick of listening to you pining and worrying and guessing. If you’re so sure, just do it already.” Michael shook his head. He knew it wouldn’t make a difference; it never did. This conversation always ended the same way. Max would swear he was going to do it, and Michael would promise it wouldn’t work, and then nothing would happen. Then, in a few months, they’d do it all over again. It was exhausting.

“Where are you going?” Max asked when Michael stood abruptly.

“Gotta get home,” Michael said, grabbing his jacket from the back of Max’s desk chair.

“You can stay,” Max offered, but Michael shook his head.

“He's working nights for a while. Its fine,” Michael responded. And he hated the way he had to make an excuse just so Max would leave it. He knew they meant well, but he hated the way Max and Isabel pitied him.

“See you tomorrow,” Max called and Michael waved over his shoulder on the way out.

“Night,” he called when he passed by Isabel’s door.

\--

And things might have continued like that; Max hoping and avoiding and Michael pushing him. Except a few days later, things changed. Everything changed.

Liz was shot.

And Michael watched in horror as Max healed her. In a diner full of people.

Life as he knew it was over.

Sure, Hank was shitty and the trailer park was depressing, and it wasn't much… but it was his. It was the best he could do. And he'd done it on his own. No help from anyone. He didn't have the Evans’. So it might not have been the best, or even good most of the time, but it was _his_.

And in a matter of seconds, Max took all of it. Everything Michael had struggled and fought and scratched out for himself was gone. Taken from him.

All because of some girl. Some girl Max was so in love with he couldn't bring himself to accept that it was pointless.

“I can't believe you!” Isabel yelled. “You had no right!” The wind at the quarry blew her hair around her face.

“What was I supposed to do?” Max asked, his eyes sad and pleading. He looked to Michael for help. “She was gonna die.”

“Then so be it,” Isabel spat. “You're not some kind of superhero, Max. You put all of us in danger. You broke the rules. The rules _we made_!”

“But--”

“It's done,” Michael cut him off. It didn't matter what justification he had. It didn't matter now. The damage was done. “They'll be coming for us.”

“No one even knows,” Max argued.

“ _She_ knows!” Michael growled. “Not only does she know what you did, she knows what you are. What _we_ are… because you _told_ her! You think little miss junior science fair is going to just let this go? You think the Sheriff is going to? Or that whack job tourist couple? It's going to come out; there's no stopping it. We have to leave. Tonight,” Michael concluded. He wasn't happy about it but he was ready. He'd spent his whole life waiting to abandon it. Even if this wasn't the way he'd pictured it, the ending was the same.

“She won't say anything,” Max tried to convince them.

“Why? Because you're soulmates?” Michael sneered. “You finally touched her and felt a connection? I'm sure the colors would have been nice, if it wasn't for all the blood. Tell me, does little miss perfect know you're her soulmate?”

“What!?” Isabel gasped and turned to Max. “Is this true?”

“No… I don't know! Okay?” Max sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don't know. I don't know if the connection was just me healing her or if… if…” he trailed off.

“That's why you want to stay,” Michael guessed. “You want to know if she felt it too. You still think she's the one.”

“What if she _is_ my soulmate? I can't just leave.”

“Sure you can. Here, I'll make it easy for you. It's her or us. You can't have both,” Michael delivered the ultimatum with as much finality as he could.

“It's… it's not safe,” Isabel said softly. The final nail in the coffin. He had to see now that it didn't matter. Even if she was his soulmate, he couldn't be hers.

\--

Max, Isabel and Michael were headed out of town. With the crash festival in full swing in the foothills, the town was almost deserted.

It was weird. Their last night here, and it was like a ghost town. Michael almost felt bad that it would be his last memory of this place.

Then, out of nowhere, a Jetta cut them off, forcing Max to swerve into an alley.

And who should get out of the car but Liz Parker and her faithful sidekick.

“Maria knows,” she said softly and Michael balled his hands into fits.

“So much for her not telling anyone, huh, Maxwell?” Michael said through gritted teeth as they approached them. Liz looked nervous, but determined. The same kind of determined expression she got when she was trying to solve a problem, like when she was trying to work out a solution. Michael had seen it enough through the years to know. Her friend, on the other hand, looked like she was about to hurl.

“I don't think you should try to leave,” she said firmly. “It would be admitting you're guilty.”

“Of saving you,” Michael snapped.

“I know, and I'm sorry. But if you leave now, Valenti will never stop looking for you.”

“You have a better idea?” Isabel asked.

“If we work together--”

“Not gonna happen,” Michael said. “Get back in your car and go.”

Liz didn't budge. Not that he really expected her too. He knew she was made of 90% stubbornness.

“Let us help,” she implored and Michael felt trapped. This was not how his life was supposed to go. His safety, his family’s lives were not supposed to hinge on the half assed plan of a teenage waitress.

“I think Michael’s right,” Max said, breaking Michael and Liz’s staring contest. “You should move your car. I'm going to turn myself in to Valenti.” Max looked at him and Michael felt his gut twist in fear.

“No,” he and Liz said in unison.

She reached for Max’s hand, as if she were trying to physically restrain him.

And for some reason, Michael couldn't look away.

He'd seen soul markers happen on TV and in movies a hundred times. But he'd never seen it happen in real life. And he watched, waiting for Max’s wrist to turn iridescent green and gold and blue, like light off a soap bubble.

But after a second where it felt like everyone held their breath, nothing happened. There was no light, no colors. No skin-bound aurora. Just Liz’s small hand on Max’s wrist.

And the devastation etched in Max’s face.

Michael was the first to react. He inhaled a shaky breath, something like disappointment rattling in his chest. And for some reason, he felt disoriented.

It was one thing to think they were immune to soul marks, but it was completely different to know it for sure. And all those hours of arguing he and Max had done, debating about whether they were human enough or belonged, Michael suddenly felt like he was on the wrong side. Like it was his fault. Like maybe he'd doomed them to this, with his lack of faith. To a life of being _other_.

He didn't expect this. To be upset. He'd always insisted they didn't have soulmates. So why was confirmation of it so painful?

“Max,” Isabel whispered his name but his eyes didn't move. They stayed glued to Liz’s hand on his wrist.

“What's wrong?” Liz asked softly, withdrawing her hand slowly, as if she could sense her mistake.

“You're… I'm not… we're not…” Max choked and turned away.

“There was no mark,” Michael explained.

“There wouldn't be,” Liz said, tilting her head in question. Like Michael should have known there wouldn't have been. Like she knew his theory of them being different.

“He thought--”

“I was so sure,” Max confessed, cutting Isabel off.

“He doesn't know,” Maria whispered and Michael watched her and Liz share a strange look.

“Who?” Max asked.

“Know what?” Michael asked. And for some reason, he felt like he didn't _want_ to know the answer.

“It was a long time ago,” Liz said and Michael could almost hear the heartache in her voice.

“Liz, you have to tell him,” Maria insisted, elbowing Liz in the side lightly.

“You thought--”

“We all did,” Michael cut Liz off, trying to defend Max. He didn't like the way she made it sound like it was Max’s fault, for believing it was possible.

“I… I've already been marked,” Liz rushed, like she was exhaling a deep breath.

“When?” Max asked, nearly demanded.

“When I was five,” Liz explained.

“But… but you don't like being touched,” Max pointed out. “Why are you so scared to touch people if you've already been marked?”

“I'm not scared to touch people,” Liz said, confused. “Is that what everyone thinks? Is that why everyone always…” Her voice trailed off, and it was like watching a light bulb come on inside her head. She's just realized why no one at school ever came within two feet of her.

“You broke your wrist,” Michael said, shaking his head. Because none of this made any sense. Why would she have done that, if she didn't care about being touched?

“That was different,” she said, looking away.

“Why?” Isabel asked and stepped forward.

“Because it was him,” Liz said, nodding her chin at Michael.

“What?” Michael reared back, as if he'd been struck. “What's so wrong with me, Parker?”

“You really don't--”

“Liz,” Maria cut her off.

“Tell me,” Michael yelled, stepping into Liz’s personal space. She withdrew immediately. And it made Michael so angry. What the hell was her problem with him? He knew she never really liked him. She always avoided talking to him, or looking at him, if she could. She always asked to be reassigned when they got paired together, or switched her seat when they were sitting next to each other--

“Hey,” Maria said, stepping between her and Michael. “Don't yell at her.” But it was too late.

Michael had already figured it out.

“Me?” he choked out. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt on the verge of fight or flight. He felt the answer come to him, filtered across years of hateful dark memories that he'd spent a lifetime trying to push away. But the way Liz’s eyes slid away and her cheeks grew pink was confirmation. “But when? How?”

“What's going on?” Max asked. He seemed like the last one to figure it out.

“It's Michael,” Maria explained. “Michael’s her soulmate.”

“No.” Michael shook his head and took an unsteady step back. That couldn't be right. Even though it _felt_ right. It couldn't be. “We don't have soulmates,” he tried to get his thoughts in order. “We’re not human. Only humans have marks. Only humans… and we’re not… we're not supposed to stay.”

“I'm sorry,” Liz apologized, a tear falling from her eye and rolling down her cheek.

“You knew?” Max yelled, grabbing Michael’s collar and pushing his back up against the side of his jeep.

“Max!” Isabel tried to pull him off, but Michael just let himself be forced back. He couldn't do anything else. None of this made any sense.

“I don't remember,” Michael whispered.

“What?” Max demanded, pulling Michael right up to his face.

“I… I don't remember. Max, I swear. I don't know what she's talking about.”

“I told you,” Maria said to Liz.

“You really don't remember?” Liz asked, and Michael looked her in the eyes for the first time. And the way she looked at him made him ache. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

“What happened?” he asked, shrugging Max off and taking a tentative step towards Liz. Max’s hand fell away from his collar without any protest.

“It was my fifth birthday,” Liz said. “My family was at Bottomless Lake State Park. We had a barbecue. I got lost. It was dark and I was scared. You found me, in the desert. You didn't say anything, you just offered your hand. And I took it. And I knew - I knew you were different. I saw a constellation and two other kids. I knew you weren't from here. And I knew you were safe,” Liz explained and Michael shook his head, trying to remember.

But everything from that day was a blur. The only reason he remembered seeing Max and Isabel is because when they found each other years later, they told him. And eventually, it'd come back to him. But the rest of it - being found by a family, taken to child services, foster care - he didn't remember any of that. The first thing he remembered after the headlights was the group home in Carlsbad, before Hank took him back to Roswell.

“You're the one who found me?” Michael asked.

“My parents found us walking down route 380, headed away from town. They took you to the Sheriff’s station. I held your hand; I wouldn't let go. Everyone saw it - the colors. It scared my parents. They tried to separate us, but I wouldn't let go. They had to wait until we fell asleep before they could take me home. My mom explained when I got older why she was so scared. You didn't speak to anyone, not even me. But I knew your name. I told them. I told them I knew it. Just like I knew you didn't have any parents. I just _knew_. It wasn't until I was older that I understood how. I looked for you. I cried for days. My parents told me you couldn't stay with us but I didn't understand why.”

“Soulmates can't be siblings,” Maria said.

“I didn't see you again for five years,” Liz said and Michael at least knew that. He didn't see anyone from Roswell until Hank brought him back.

“I was in a group home in Carlsbad,” Michael said. “I don't remember anything before that, except Max and Isabel.”

“I knew who you were the second I saw you. But you acted like you didn't know me. I told my parents. By then I'd figured out what you were. What we were. My mom said I should give it time. That maybe you weren't ready. She said I should be careful not to touch you in public. She said sometimes soulmates reject their partners, for whatever reasons. And that was their right. She said it wouldn't be fair to reveal a secret that big without permission. So,” she shrugged, “I left you alone. I gave you time, and space. I was careful to avoid you. Maybe a little enthusiastic,” she said, gesturing to her wrist. “All this time, I thought--”

“You thought I was pretending?” Michael guessed.

“I thought you didn't want me to be your soulmate. That you didn't like me,” she nodded. And Michael could actually feel his heart break.

All this time, she'd been suffering. All this time that he was arguing with Max about marks and humans and insisting that it _didn't matter_ , and she was miserable. And alone.

“I'm sorry,” Michael whispered, lifting his hand up to touch her face.

He'd spent the last five years being so careful to avoid her. So the act of purposefully reaching out to touch her was jarring. He had to pause just short of making contact. But she didn't flinch or pull away when he finally let his hand touch her cheek.

\--

And the instant he does, he sees it.

The most beautiful lights he's ever seen. All different colors, shining in the lamplight, like a fishing lure winking in the sunlight.

He's never seen anything like it. Not even in the movies.

He feels like wherever his skin touches her, he can see starlight. Like she is the universe, and his touch brings the night, allowing her to shine.

It's beautiful.

She is beautiful.

“Oh my god,” Maria gasps next to her and Michael and hears Max's sharp intake of breath behind him. He's sure Max will never forgive him for this betrayal.

But he can't stop himself.

It's more than the lights.

It's the feeling of her. He can see her, really see her.

He sees her at five, crying in the desert. And he sees himself, his hand outstretched. He knows she will love him. Even knowing what he is. Even knowing what that will mean. He can see it. They will be happy together. He sees himself smiling. He's older and her fingers are laced with his. They’re standing at the Grand Canyon. He's proposing. She says yes. And he's happy. Oh god. He's never been that happy before.

“It really is you,” he whispers, taking another step forward and leans his head down. And she raises up on her tip toes. And their foreheads bump together and he lets his eyes slip shut.

He is lost to the wave of emotions. He is lost to the memories, to the flashes of his future.

He sees a constellation and the pod chamber. He sees a distant world and an image of Liz at eleven, crying in the nurse’s office, holding her wrist. But more than that. He can _feel_ what she feels. Her heartache. Her pain. The shame of rejection.

When Michael opens his eyes he sees Liz. She's looking up at him, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips.

“You remembered,” she whispers and he smiles.

\--

“Michael,” Isabel said and all at once, Michael felt the world come crashing back down on his shoulders. “We have to go,” she reminded him.

But everything was different now. How could he possibly explain what it was like to _know_ , to see, to feel so connected to another person? He felt like he'd never be whole again without her. He knew what he'd said. He knew he told Max it didn't matter. That it should have been easy, with that ultimatum. That even if she was his soulmate, he couldn't be hers. He knew all the reasons why he had to leave were just as valid as they'd been half an hour ago.

But he also knew that that all those reasons were meaningless without Liz. There was no point in running, no point in trying to protect his family if he didn't include her.

“Come with us,” Michael said, still touching her face.

“I can't,” she said and turned away. “My family, my life is here. I can't just run. And neither should you.”

“I can't go without you. I've spent ten years not knowing; how could you stand it?” he wondered.

“She complained a lot,” Maria said and Liz laughed.

“I finally found you. I'm not going to leave you now,” he told her. “I can't,” he said, turning to Max and Isabel. How could he explain to them what it was like? To see his life all laid out in front of him, like a roadmap. And at each intersection, she was there. “I can't,” he said again, as if repetition alone was enough to convince them.

“Sure you can. Here, I'll make it easy for you. It's her or us. You can't have both,” Max echoed his exact words from earlier and Michael felt sick.

“Max,” Isabel chastised him, but Michael could see the rage in the line of his shoulders. He knew it was fair. He deserved it, after everything that’d happened.

“I choose her,” Michael responded without hesitation. “Thank you,” he said looking at Max, “for saving her. I'll never be able to thank you enough.”

“I didn't do it for you,” Max said before he climbed into the Jeep.

“I'm sorry,” Michael apologized, unsure what to do next. And despite having just found the other half of his soul, he felt like he was losing another piece of it. He didn't want to lose Max and Isabel. They were his family. But he didn't know what else to do. Even if they left, someone would come for Liz. And he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

“Please, Max. I can't lose either of you. We’re family,” Isabel pleaded. “Let's just hear her idea.” She put her hand on Max’s arm.

“It’ll work,” Liz said confidently.

“Please, Maxwell,” Michael begged. “Even if we leave, she won't be safe,” he pointed out and despite knowing he'd lost her, Michael knew Max still loved Liz. He wouldn't put her in harm’s way just because he was angry. He was better than that.

“Fine,” Max relented, sighing and running his hands over his face. “Fine, but when this is over…” he said unsurely. “When this is over, we’re all going to sit down and agree to some new rules,” he said pointedly, looking at Maria. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Liz chirped.

“Deal,” Michael agreed.

“Deal,” Isabel and Maria said in unison.

\--

Michael and Liz found each other later that night, after Valenti had been dealt with. She joined him overlooking the crash.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“Hey,” he responded and smiled. It felt strange, to both know her and yet _not_ know her. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around her. “Everything go okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Valenti let Max go and Isabel took Maria home to get cleaned up.”

And it was strange, the way he felt drawn to her. Like he couldn't not touch her. And he wondered again how she'd managed to hide this for the past five years. He couldn't even keep his hands off her for two minutes.

They stepped toward each other, like planets caught in each other’s orbits. They fell into each other. His hands automatically came up to frame her face and at the first contact, Liz sighed and shut her eyes.

“Is this…” Michael said, licking his lips. He suddenly felt parched. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Liz said and he felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized his muscles were clenched so tightly until she reassured him. And he finally felt like he could breathe.

“I don't know how you did it, how you could pretend for so long.”

“It wasn't easy,” she admitted. “Distance helped,” she said and he remembered the way she'd thrown herself out of his way in middle school and cringed. No wonder she'd broken her wrist. She must have been desperate. “Time helped,” she added, sounding sad and small.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized again.

“It's okay,” she shook her head, looking up into his eyes. “I saw,” is all she said. But he understood what she meant. She'd seen his life. The group home, Hank, the trailer park. She'd seen the worst of him, and she still looked at him _like that_.

“What do we do now?” he asked as the fireworks from the crash sprang to life below them, bathing her face in brilliant light.

“I think,” she said, inching her way towards him. “This,” she said, raising up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing their lips together slowly.

And if he thought touching her was intense, it was nothing compared to kissing her.

He felt like he could see the entirely of his life, past and present. He felt like he could reach out and touch it.

\--

The way she looks at him on their wedding day. The way she holds his hand when he shows her the inner chamber of their ship. The way she kisses him when they graduate. The way she looks with her hair fanned out on the white sheets of their bed, the soft sounds of rain against their window. The way she wraps her legs around him and tells him she loves him.

She says it over and over. A hundred times. A thousand times. An entire lifetime of love is all folded into the span of a minute. He can feel it all. He can see it all.

When they part, Michael is panting and Liz is wrapped tightly in his arms.

“Did you see?” she asks, just as out of breath as he is.

Below them, the fireworks fade, leaving them in darkness. Just the lights of the festival and the moon illuminating their faces.

\--

“You said you loved me,” he said, trying to gauge her reaction. What is it that she saw, he wondered.

“I do,” she said without pause. “You said you loved me too,” she told him, smiling.

“When?” he asked. He hadn't seen that.

“Right now,” she said and touched his cheek. And at the contact, he got a flash of them just as they are now. He smiled down at her and said he loved her.

He laughed because it was all so fast, but at the same time, it felt right. Everything felt exactly right.

“I love you,” he said, just as he had in her vision. And Michael realized it wasn't a declaration for her as much as it was for himself. He needed to say it. He needed to hear himself say it.

They laughed together, Liz resting her cheek against his chest.

Michael felt strange. He felt old and young all at once. He felt like he was five and eleven and thirty and forty-five all at the same time. He felt like a husband and a boyfriend and a partner. He felt like someone new, someone better. He felt like that missing piece of himself he'd been searching for in the night skies for a decade wasn't in the stars.

Finally, he felt like his life had begun. Like he'd left the waiting room.

He looked down and Liz and couldn't help but think: Chapter One.


End file.
